


who we become after dark

by Windmire



Series: by silence of day [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5318063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windmire/pseuds/Windmire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It takes her a moment, just a moment, but Stephanie soon feels the first stirrings of excitement come to life in her chest. Batgirl and the Spoiler. The Spoiler and Batgirl... Ohhh, she could get used to this kind of team up.</i>
</p><p>Or: A series of moments in a different world entirely, where the Joker takes over Arkham Asylum for one night and Arkham City is born, but Stephanie and Cassandra still find their way to the rest of the Bats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. nothing left here to regret - Stephanie

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I played through the entire Arkham series this summer and fell back into Batman in general like I'd never fallen before. It's kind of a Problem. What I really wanted most of all though? Arkham versions of the second and third Batgirls. So this kind of. Happened.  
> 2\. Playing fast and loose (way fast and loose) with timelines and canon events as I try to adapt everything to the Arkhamverse.  
> 3\. And I have so many questions. How do you even write Arkham Tim, why does only the Joker call Barbara "Babs" in the series  
> 4\. Can you believe this was actually just supposed to be a short one shot setting things up for something set post-Arkham Knight? But then things kinda snowballed. So please excuse the huge gaps in time in some parts.  
> 5\. I didn't feel it was worth a warning in the tags, but there _are_ references to both the end of Arkham Knight and Jason's flashback/hallucination scenes in Panessa Studios here.  
>  Sooo, yeah, there's a sequel in the works, hopefully. And maybe a side story or two with the other characters. If I ever figure out what I'm doing, oh god, hahaha

**i.**

Stephanie doesn't grow up hearing stories about the Bat. Or. She doesn't grow up hearing the usual ones, at least. She's ten that Christmas Eve, when her mom drags her inside the house early and locks all the doors and windows, parks herself in front of the news. She very carefully doesn't talk about her dad, even though he's not at home (and not in Blackgate) and they've locked themselves _inside_. She only shakes her head, lips pursed, whenever Stephanie asks, until her mom's finally shooing her out of the living room, off to her own room. But her room's the absolute last place she intends to go to. Being there won't help her find out what's going on, or where her dad's gone to this time. 

Because. Because by now, she's old enough to have a vague idea of what her dad does, _is_ , knows it's not really normal for him to spend his time in and out of Blackgate, and that her mom _really_ doesn't like it. But she also knows her mom doesn't even always notice it anymore. There's... something, something she understands all too well, but refuses to acknowledge, that takes her away sometimes. It's enough to know it's happening, to reluctantly acknowledge that some of her classmates have parents who do the same thing. 

But her mom's all there that night, tense and curt, and her dad _isn't_ home and by now, Stephanie is old enough to put two and two together and get a rotten four. 

Her dad's off "working," he's gotta be. And, tucked away in a corner of the staircase, she can hear voices from the TV, can hear the lady on the news talking about something in a bank, in a hotel, about "increased gang and criminal activity" in the streets and Stephanie. 

She can't _do_ anything, can only keep herself hidden away from her mom (she won't go to sleep in her room, she _won't_ ), her attention entirely on the news now too, because. 

Whatever bad things her dad may be out doing don't really change the fact that he just has to get home okay. Maybe-- and at that moment the news still haven't even mentioned the Bat, have still said nothing about the rumors that the bad guys are all looking for _him_ , but she thinks that maybe-- if her dad runs into the Batman that night... Will he make him stop doing bad things? Will he make him come home or-- 

She curls up tighter on the stairs, wrapping her arms around her knees. No. What could the Bat do? 

Her dad isn't that good. 

Instead, she closes her eyes, hopes and _hopes_ that her dad won't run into him at all. Or that he'll end up in Blackgate instead, she thinks, and can't decide whether she wants to take that back or not. 

So she doesn't try to, just sits and forces herself to stop thinking about her dad instead, to keep her attention on the news instead. 

And waits. 

And she doesn't see the Batman through her window (or the window at the foot of the stairs) that night, the way some of her classmates will later claim they did. He has no reason to go to her neighborhood that night, after all, much like the assassins she doesn't find out about until later have no interest in it that night. She doesn't hear him land on her roof, doesn't see him go after any criminals. 

But, when her dad finally comes home, when the sky's just beginning to lighten and she still hasn't gone to bed, still hasn't had her mom check on her, she hears (eavesdrops on) what _he_ has to say about the Batman. And, instead of the mythical masked creature, more bat than human, her classmates will whisper about, she hears of a masked whackjob with a thing for breaking bones, of some creep who's just gotta stick his nose everywhere it doesn't belong. And her dad repeats it at all over breakfast later in the morning, over dinner, and her mom doesn't really respond to any of them, doesn't... really act any differently after that night either. 

But Stephanie. She listens to every single thing her dad has to say about the Batman, every single heated complaint, every single rumor he picked up around the city on Christmas Eve and she. 

She's ten years old and that's old enough to know what her dad's doing isn't normal. To know her dad's a bad guy. And if Arthur Brown is a bad guy... If he's a bad guy and he hates Batman, then maybe... 

Maybe the Bat isn't some bat creature _or_ a whackjob.

Maybe he's a hero.

-

**ii.**

Stephanie's eighteen the first time she puts on a mask, pulls on cape and cowl. She's just finished high school and her dad's actually out of Blackgate again for the first time since she _started_ high school.

And that's exactly the problem.

She doesn't buy his "reformed" story for a second, not like her mom, who really, truly, _wants_ to believe it this time. But if there's one thing Stephanie Brown's learned in her eighteen years of life it's that men like Arthur Brown _don't_ reform. They lie and lie and lie. They cry about forgiveness and repentance, swear they'll never do it again, then turn around and do it all over again. It doesn't matter who they hurt. They just. _Don't_. Stop.

And she's not getting fooled twice. 

She's been sticking to a strict schedule of class (and isn't going to college still so freaking weird?) and keeping an eye out for her dad getting up to no good. And she's had a few idle thoughts here and there, every time the news are buzzing with some other crazy thing happening in Gotham, every time there's another masked vigilante on the news.

And it all comes together one night, when the evening news report on the getaway of an unidentified man she _knows_ is her dad, knows as well as she knows the hot, burning anger that surges through her at the sight.

 _Wouldn't it just be so perfect if she were the one to stop her dad's crimes? Wouldn't that just gall him?_

It's just that though, an idle, _angry_ , thought. A few years' worth of martial arts lessons and anger at her father don't make a vigilante.

That's what she tells herself, anyway, when she spends all of her spare cash on a few lengths of fabric, some outfits to tear apart, and gets Johnny a few streets over to spot her a couple canisters of pepper spray.

It's just a joke, a whim-- she can't even really sew-- when she borrows her mom's sewing machine and puts together an outfit and mask. She's not actually gonna do it, she tells herself as she stashes the finished costume in her closet, behind the rest of her clothes.

It's crazy, she's not gonna do it, Stephanie thinks, as she watches her dad swagger home again and again every night, the anger rising so fast it chokes her.

And it's not until a couple months later that renewed determination hits her.

A bit more literally than she'd like.

She's on her way home, night just beginning to fall. And _that's_ when some lady bumps into her, hard, enough to nearly knock her off her feet. She pitches forward, scrabbling for the brick wall beside her and _whoa_ is she grateful she managed keep her nose from slamming against the brick.

Ohhh, that's definitely gonna leave a bruise...

"Watch it!" Stephanie yells after her, panting and clutching her bag tighter to herself to keep from doing something _stupid_ like running after her. She shakes her head, teeth gritted, and pushes away from the wall. "What the hell! You can't just--!" 

She overbalances, misses a step on the uneven concrete, and.

 _And damn it all_. This is not how she pictured her day going.

"Whoa, careful there." There's a voice in her ear, a hand at her elbow.

And she's not falling on her ass on the ground.

Oh.

And just like that, just as quickly as there was someone behind her, they're gone, rushing past her and _she recognizes that outfit_. From blurry footage on the news, from blurry, out of focus pictures on the internet, and sure, he's got that hood on, but he sure as hell isn't blurry now.

Robin.

As in Batman and Robin. As in _Batgirl_ and Robin. 

(The very same Batgirl that, if rumors are to be believed, no one's seen for months now.)

And now that she can see him up close, even if just for a few moments, he's just. She knew he was young, of course, everyone knows that. Yeah, Robin's been around for almost as long as Batman has, but he's always been young, and this guy's the _third_ one.

But Robin, Batman's sidekick, is just some. Some guy _her_ age. For all she knows, he could be the guy who sits behind her in her English class!

And Stephanie's frozen in place, her bag slipping from her slack fingers to land with a thud on the sidewalk. She watches him go, chasing after the woman who bumped into her, who... looks suspiciously like Harley Quinn from this angle. (Harley Quinn bumped into her and she just _yelled at her, oh god--_ )

Her heart beats hard in her chest, once.

He's just some guy her age.

Just some guy her age running around fighting criminals with Batman at his back.

And Stephanie doesn't need Batman.

She doesn't need any help at all. It's not like she's going after Harley Quinn or the Joker or even guys like the Penguin.

When she gets home that night, she digs through her closet for the costume she made, smooths it out and...

(if he can do it, she can)

And a week later, she's tailing her dad when he leaves the house that night. A week and two days later, she hides her smile, grabs her bag, and heads off to class, the sounds of her dad swearing up a storm in the kitchen, complaining about some _kid_ getting in the way at "work" and "spoiling" everything, following her out the door.

Spoiled everything, did she?

Huh. So... The Spoiler.

She kinda likes that name.

-

**iii.**

(And if all it takes is a few whispers, dropping her chosen name a few times before kicking one of her dad's lackeys in the face, to have #Spoiler sightings flooding her Twitter feed along with the usual #Batman and #Robin sightings, well...

That's just a bonus.)

-

**iv.**

Tailing her dad and interfering just enough to spoil his crimes while wearing a costume she cobbled together herself? Doable.

Things going wrong (--her foot misses a step, she knocks over something heavy where she's hiding--) and ending up facing some of her dad's... "associates" with a costume she cobbled together herself? Not so doable.

Turns out the scum of Gotham has guns. Who knew?

She's _way_ lucky to escape without any bullet holes, or even grazes, in her and she damn well knows it, but that's still more bruises than she wants to have to explain to anyone, _especially_ her mom.

Which means she's definitely gonna ask at some point.

Damn.

If only she had a handy cop around to lend her their bulletproof vest. Johnny a few streets over sure doesn't have any. And she doesn't have any other ideas. 

Or money, for that matter. 

So she... doesn't give up, just temporarily shelves the idea for some kind of extra protection. And, after a sleepless night spent avoiding her homework and clicking link after link to shakycam videos of the Batman and Robin and Batgirl (most of them were of Batgirl, really, and she might have ended up watching Supergirl at work for a while there, too), she...

...Sees it.

Batgirl's costume is obviously armored, but does she even _need_ it? The bad guys can't even touch her, can't even get close.

A guy kicks at her, she's somersaulting away, another one punches at her and she's ducking under him and sliding away. It's freaking unreal, _she's fucking unreal_. And of course Stephanie knew Batgirl was good. They all are, all have to be, all those bats and birds and whatever. But there's just something extra special about Batgirl, who's fought alongside Batman and _three different Robins_.

(Because Gothamites aren't stupid, thank you very much. Of course they can tell there's been multiple Robins. The rumor mill around her neighborhood goes crazy every time there's a new one, for one, from speculation that the other two are dead to rumors that the first one's that Nightwing guy now and who the hell knows what happened to that second one?)

She's got to be some kind of gymnast or something, maybe a traceuse. And she's damn good at it, so good Stephanie's not sure whether she's jealous or impressed. (Mostly though, she kinda just wants to hug Batgirl.) And she...

Stephanie's always done well in her martial arts classes, if she says so herself, but she's never been _that_ good. She doesn't even know the first thing about gymnastics or acrobatics or whatever either and.

She groans, laying her head down on her arms folded across her keyboard (and that definitely means she accidentally clicks on some other link, but she doesn't pay any attention to that). "Come on, Steph, come on," she mutters to herself, huffing out a breath. "If she can do it, you can. If she can do it, you can figure it out. _Think_..."

The next morning she wakes with an imprint of her keyboard on her cheek and some shaky _The Flash Runs for 10 Hours_ loop playing on her laptop. Which immediately runs out of the last of its battery.

Damn.

But she _also_ wakes with a head full of ideas and it doesn't take her long to _act_ on them.

Her mom, much to her relief, never questions the sudden interest in parkour. 

Though she sure as hell keeps giving her _looks_ whenever she comes home with more and more scrapes and bruises.

 _Damn_.

-

**v.**

She manages a whole six months before any of the Bats come calling.

It's a whole six months where she doesn't manage to get her dad arrested again, but she also _doesn't_ manage to get shot, so she's counting it as a win. The fact that her dad grows more and more frustrated by the week is a nice bonus, too.

And she knows she can't really go on forever like this without anyone noticing, especially when she occasionally branches out to other petty criminals. She reeaaally doubts the rumors about The Bat being overzealous in how he protects Gotham are exaggerated. But.

Well. Whatever happened to Batgirl obviously slowed down Batman and Robin and she's not gonna pretend she wasn't hoping that would keep them off her tail a little longer.

It's nighttime, naturally, when it happens and she's managed to perch herself on a low rooftop _without_ hurting herself... or taking the stairs.

_Score one for Stephanie._

It works as a good vantage point for the parking lot her dad and some other shady guys are meeting in (and really, could they possibly be more obvious about being up to no good?), even if she can't exactly make out what they're saying. But she can work with what she's got.

Stephanie leans forward slightly, hands between her knees and eyes set firmly on her dad, standing in the center of the group of guys. He's gesturing widely, voice loud-- and still completely incomprehensible to her-- and if she could just... figure out where they're going next... If one of them would just mention an address loud enough to hear, pull up a map on their phone, _put up a big blinking sign for her_...

"What are you doing here?"

Her heart clenches in her chest. All the breath whooshes out of her lungs so fast her head swims.

"Wh-what?!" she stammers out, only just barely remembering to keep her voice low. She turns her head so fast it _hurts_ and--

"What the hell?!" she grits out, none other than freaking _Robin_ crouching next to her.

He huffs out some cross between a sigh and a laugh, shaking his head. "That's my line." He raises an eyebrow. "You shouldn't be here. Who even are you?"

"I'm the Spoiler," she says, all false bravado. She's not scared, she's not freaked out, she's not, she's not.

"You're the Spoiler." He doesn't ask, but he sure doesn't sound convinced. "The purple vigilante girl?"

"Yeah. What's it to you?!" She shakes her head, one quick, sharp motion, and barrels on, "And it's _eggplant_."

"What."

"It's egg--" she cuts herself off, huffing out a breath. "Never mind. Yeah, I'm the Spoiler, so what? It's a free roof!"

He snorts. "You shouldn't be here, free roof or not. You're not trained for this kind of thing. You have no idea how dangerous this is." 

And he's not wrong. She knows it. She was expecting something like this. 

But that hardly means she's going to let him push her around either. She's worked _too hard_.

"So _what_?" she hisses. "You didn't know everything when you started, did you? I _have_ to do this."

There's a pause, before he levels a look on Stephanie, eyebrows raised, and it is waaay too knowing for her comfort. "'Cause of Cluemaster?" he asks slowly and she doesn't freeze. She doesn't, absolutely doesn't, cannot give herself away (does he already know?). 

She says nothing, only turns her head to look back at the parking lot. And straight at one of her dad's goons. Who's _staring right back at her_.

"What the hell?!" she has time to say before he's yelling at the others, pointing at their rooftop, and those are definitely guns aiming at them now.

Oh god.

"Uh oh," Robin mutters beside her, rising to his feet. "Guess we weren't as quiet as we thought."

"Thanks to _you_."

Stephanie stands after him, gathering her cape around her as she measures the distance between them and the parking lot. (The distance between her dad and the street. A distance he's already closing, _the coward_.)

Too far to jump, too slow to climb down.

She's turning her head back and forth, looking for a fire escape, a tall dumpster, _anything_ , when there's a gloved hand on her arm and--

Heart pounding in her throat, she lashes out, striking wildly at whoever's grabbed her, no, no, not now, she can't--

" _Watch it_!" she yelps, when Robin catches her fist, lets go of her other arm. "Don't scare me like that!"

"Okay, okay!" he says, shaking his head and showing her his... grapple thing in his free hand. "Yell later, come on. We can run away or we can take care of these guys. And you can show me what you're made of."

She grins, more baring her teeth than smiling, and he definitely can't see it through her mask. But he must have some idea of what she meant when he nods and reaches for her again, wrapping an arm around her to _leap_ off the roof.

And for the record? Jumping off a building with a bat grapple?

 _Awesome_.

In the end, her dad's nowhere to be found once they hit the ground. And, even after they fight off his goons and leave them nicely tied up for the GCPD, Robin, the jerk, still doesn't look entirely convinced about Stephanie. But he doesn't tell her she shouldn't be there again, and.

Stephanie'll take that.

And the next morning, when she's in the middle of trying to strangle her alarm clock to death, her phone rings.

"It's six am?!" she greets, voice rough and her alarm still _definitely_ going loud enough for whoever's on the line to hear.

"Spoiler," a mechanized voice says and Stephanie freezes. "My name is Oracle and, if you'll meet with me, I think we can help each other."

Ohgodohgodohgod--

 _Oh god_.

-

**vi.**

Stephanie's not stupid.

It doesn't take her long to figure out why Robin pointed Oracle her way.

A glorified babysitter, that's gotta be what he wanted. Someone who'll keep her busy and make sure she's not going after big guys with guns all by herself.

The little rat bastard.

But working as one of Oracle's "agents" is... actually not that bad. It's downright fun at times and, with access to Oracle's databases-- and not to mention some sweet _bat equipment_ \-- she doesn't even mind doing jobs for her or backing up the Birds of Prey, and even Robin sometimes, when they need extra eyes or ears. Foiling her dad's plans is a lot easier than it was before, after all.

And besides... Robin must actually have some faith in her if he did this instead of setting the Bat after her, right? So she'll show him. She totally will. When she _shows him up_.

(Oooor he decided she was suicidal and he couldn't talk her out of it. But she'd rather think he was impressed.)

All in all, it's not a bad deal.

It takes another six months-- and it's entirely due to Black Canary's mission report after Stephanie maaayyybe, sort of, kind of manages to both ruin and _totally save_ a mission she'd been helping the Birds of Prey out with-- before she actually meets Oracle face to face, instead of face to computer screen.

And Batman.

She walks into Oracle's apartment and _Batman_ is standing _right_ there looking at her computer screens, holy--

And it all ends up going by in a blur for her, becoming just That Blur in Time Where She Met Batman. But Oracle (Barbara, apparently) must have put in a good word for her or something, because he's not exactly nice, but _doesn't_ say anything particularly scary to her, _doesn't_ tell her to hang up her cape and mask, then just walks away and grapples up to some kind of skylight on the top of the clock tower like it's no big deal.

 _Holy shit_.

Oracle just grins at her cheekily and says, "Well, you've met the big bad Bat. And it'll probably be a while till Nightwing's back in town." She pauses, tapping a finger against her cheek. "Maybe I'll introduce you to Robin properly soon."

 _What the hell did Black Canary say to her_?!

-

**vii.**

Turns out Robin doesn't sit behind her in English.

He sits _beside her_ in Intro to Philosophy.

She's very proud of her self-control when, next Tuesday morning, when he takes his seat next to her, she doesn't throw her stupid, heavy, overpriced textbook at his stupid, stupid face.

-

**viii.**

When Stephanie first meets Cassandra Cain (or is it Cassandra Wayne now?), at Oracle's apartment, Steph is almost in full costume and Cassandra... is not.

Turns out she's running all over Gotham for Oracle and she doesn't even have a costume. Huh. But Stephanie can see how it makes sense. Sort of. Oracle's told her Cassandra can take care of herself just fine, but it figures that Bruce Wayne working with Batman somehow is one thing (and wasn't that a shocked? Bruce Wayne and Batman?!), but his newly adopted daughter putting on a costume and kicking bad guys would be something else entirely.

So. It makes sense. Even if she had kind of been not so secretly hoping "Oracle's best agent" could join her in the field.

Oh well.

"Cassandra." Stephanie smiles once Oracle's introduced them, holds out a hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you."

Cassandra nods, those pretty eyes staring right at her, before looking at her outstretched hand. Carefully, slowly, glacially slow, she reaches out to clasp it. "It's nice to meet you, too, Stephanie. I..." She hesitates, lips pursed, and Stephanie gets the feeling she's _thinking_ and it's _absolutely adorable_. "Look... forward... to working with you."

"Steph. You can call me Steph." She smiles and it's a little too eager, she realizes after a moment.

Cassandra pauses, brows furrowing this time. Steph can see Oracle raising her eyebrows out of the corner of her eye, but ignores her for the moment. _Come on, Steph, don't mess this up_.

"Then... Call me Cass? The others call me that, too." She smiles, a little hesitant, but Steph nods and can't help but let her own smile widen in response.

"Cass. That's perfect, I love it!"

Cass blinks at her, lips quirking slightly. "Really?"

"Uh. Yeah. It's a pretty name. Like you, so it totally suits you." Uh. _Too forward? Too forward._ "I mean, I didn't mean that _you're_ pretty! ...No, uh. You're definitely--" _Smooth, Steph._

Cassandra tilts her head, just slightly, lips pursed, and Oracle is definitely raising a hand to cover a grin back there, _what the hell_.

"I... I-I don't know what I'm saying," she blurts out, waving her hands in front of her and really, really wishing she'd just left her mask on. At least she'd look a little less stupid that way. "You're just--"

"You don't have to be nervous. Or embarrassed," Cassandra interrupts. "It's... okay. I'm not mad at you."

"Yeah. Okay. Totally." Steph nods, feeling a little like her head's gonna bob right off her shoulder and Cassandra's expression... doesn't change. "Great."

She doesn't... say anything else, kind of feels the urge to just pull her mask on and run away. But neither does Cass. She only continues to _look_ at Steph, as if she were looking for, and finding, something. (And isn't that just creepy?) As if Stephanie hasn't just completely let her mouth run off with her in front of a pretty girl. And that is definitely muffled laughter behind her, _Barbara_ \--

This is _so_ not the first impression she wanted to give the only other agent Oracle's got around her age, _so not_.

But it's... surprisingly nice to see Cass grin as soon as she realizes Oracle's laughing.

Oh man.

-

**ix.**

Another few months later, Cassandra's Batgirl.

Sort of.

Stephanie's been keeping an eye on the news all night, since the Joker went after the (now former) Mayor and Batman hauled him off to Arkham. Business as usual in Gotham, shouldn't have warranted anything more than a message from Oracle telling her to be alert.

But then the Joker took over Arkham. With _Batman_ still inside.

She's retreated to the staircase (and isn't that just familiar?), her phone in her hands as she taps out a text message to Tim, who isn't even in Gotham right now. And that is just about the only thing keeping her from cursing at the TV downstairs _again_ , because _why don't they know anything about what's going on at Arkham?_ She'd had to leave the living room after that brought up one too many concerned questions from her mom.

" _and oracle's still got nothing else???_ "

" _not yet. sorry._ "

Steph bites her lip, tapping her phone against her leg. It's fine. Right? It should be fine. Sure, Batman's stuck in Arkham with all of... them, but he can take care of himself, right? He just has to fight his way out. Simple. Piece of cake. Nothing's gonna happen to him or Arkham Island or the city.

Her phone buzzes with another text, from Barbara this time.

" _The clock tower. ASAP._ " And that definitely means business.

It takes her a while, way longer than she'd like, to make her excuses to her mom, but she manages to convince her that she's just going to Cass' place, that Cass is just nervous about what's going on at Arkham, and anyway, where in Gotham could possibly be safer than Wayne Manor? She's pretty sure that, after hugging her mom goodbye, she breaks some kind of record running all the way to Old Gotham.

She really needs a car. Or a bike. Doesn't Nightwing have a cool bike?

Stephanie's breathing hard by the time she makes it onto the elevator, but she doesn't let herself stop for more than a moment before she's shoving her costume on, just managing to pull her mask on when she reaches Oracle's floor.

"I'm here, I'm here!" she gasps out, arms spread wide. "It took a while for my mom to stop--"

She cuts herself off, sucking in a gasp.

 _Who_ \--

Oracle raises an eyebrow, then gestures at the girl standing next to her. "So Cass has a new costume. Say hello to the _second_ Batgirl."

Cass raises a hand. It's not quite a wave, but Steph's learned to just treat it as one by now. "Hi, Stephanie."

"H-hi?!" she practically squeaks out and boy is she glad she's actually got her mask on this time. Because that costume?

Sca- _ree_.

Sure, Cass can be a little... intense. But Steph never really thinks she looks scary (she thinks she looks pretty most of the time, really, but that's Stephanie's business). That costume though? And that mask? All black, with seriously gruesome-looking stitches on the lower half on the face? Who the hell designed that?!

"O-okay," she manages when neither of the Batgirls (whoa) says anything else. "Okay, Cassandra's Batgirl. Why? What's going on? Are we gonna help Batman?"

Barbara's lips thin, her shoulders tensing just a little more. "In a manner of speaking. While everyone's busy with Arkham, the Ventriloquist's going and holding..." She raises her eyebrows. "An alarming amount of shops."

"The _Ventriloquist_? Seriously, that reject?"

"He's dangerous," Cassandra says quietly.

"Well, yeah, but..." She throws up her hands, shaking her head. It's hard to deny that he's just a little hard to take seriously. "It's just been a while since he and Scarface did anything."

"Freeze is out there, too, right now," Barbara adds, voice wry.

Oh. Well. "So... You want us to take care of 'em?"

"Please." Barbara nods. "I don't feel great about sending you after him by yourself, but with both Dick and Tim in Blüdhaven right now..." She shrugs. "I wasn't gonna send Cass out as herself either. So Batgirl. Batman can deal with it."

It takes her a moment, just a moment, but Stephanie soon feels the first stirrings of excitement come to life in her chest. Batgirl and the Spoiler. The Spoiler and Batgirl... Ohhh, she could get used to this kind of team up.

" _Awesome_! Just you wait, Barb, we'll get these guys outta your hair in no time." She'd wink. If any of them could actually see it.

"Yes. We'll take care of them," Cassandra says after a moment, voice that perfectly confident tone she just _loves_ hearing out on the field.

Oh, yeah. They so got this. (No matter how skeptical Oracle looks.)

"Keep in constant contact!" Oracle manages to yell after them before they're out the skylight, Gotham city laid out in front of them.

...And she repeats it again, laughing this time, when they have to stop two buildings over to ask for her extra information.

Apparently, you have to actually know where the bad guys are before you can go after them.

Who knew?

-

**x.**

Stephanie sees her dad for the last time in Arkham City.

Sort of.

Stephanie sees her dad face to face for the last time weeks after Batman's night in Arkham _Asylum_ , when she and Batgirl haul him into the GCPD, steadfastly ignoring _everything_ he has to say. Every justification, every excuse, every taunt, every harsh word: she's heard it all before and she.

She can't.

So the last time Stephanie sees her dad face to face, she and Cassandra hand him off to Gordon and she's feeling pretty proud of herself-- or is it regretful?-- for not kicking him.

But Stephanie sees her dad for the last time in Arkham City.

The thing is... she never actually sets foot in Arkham City. Among them, only Batman and Robin do, but Bats are nothing if not prepared and the two of them return with the weirdest home movies she's ever had the misfortune of seeing.

If you wanna describe 'em nicely.

And it's one afternoon, a few days after Harley Quinn's been dealt with for the moment, that finds Steph in the clock tower, going over some of Batman and Robin's footage with Barbara and Cass.

...Which really means Cass is fast asleep in her chair, Barb is going over the footage, and Steph is peeking over her shoulder. 

They're totally working.

And it's nothing noteworthy, just a shot outside the old courthouse, but she instantly _sees_ him.

And Stephanie.

"Dad?!" she blurts out before she's even registered she's doing it. "What's he--"

And that's such a stupid question. It doesn't take a freakin genius to figure out why he's in Arkham City when he'd been _arrested_ the last time she saw him. Of _course_ he'd end up there.

Barbara doesn't mention that though, doesn't even seem to think about how _stupid_ that question was, just hurries to pause the video, to zoom in for a better look. Without a word, she's then speeding through hours and hours of video, nothing like the slow, methodical pace of before, and it takes her a moment (or five) but Stephanie _gets it_ , gets what she's doing.

She's looking for Arthur Brown in Arkham City. And she finds him, several times, and nothing's out of place, he's just another crook in that hellhole. But it's once she's looking for footage after Protocol Ten, after TYGER and the helicopters, that she's not finding him, oh god, oh god, he's not in _any_ of it.

And Stephanie.

Stephanie doesn't say anything when Barb tries to comfort her, can only shake her head, can't even get her eyes off the screen, because _is he dead_? Did he make it through Protocol Ten? Did he get carted off back to Blackgate or die in an alley somewhere in Arkham City? Did he escape and leave town? That'd be just like him, wouldn't it? Once a coward, always a coward.

(She's not totally convinced, she realizes, holding in a laugh just this side of hysterical, Gothamites can survive outside the city anyway. It kind of feels like they should just disappear when they leave Gotham City, turn to ash, or worse, become normal, well-adjusted people.)

And she tells herself the tears that spill down her cheeks are angry ones, furious ones. And the first wrapping around her heart and _squeezing_ is pure disgust and hatred. Because how dare he still be causing trouble for them like this. How dare he not just sit quietly in a cell in Blackgate for the rest of his life.

And she almost believes it.

"Steph..."

"I'm fine," she chokes out, squeezing her eyes shut. "I hope he _died_ in there."

And then she can't say anymore. But she lets Barbara pull her into a hug, lets her rub her back while she cries tears that have _nothing_ to do with grief. _Nothing_.

She realizes later, once she's cried herself out and Barb's gone back to work, that Cass didn't actually sleep through all that. She realizes, when a hand slips into hers, carefully, hesitantly, but no less steady for it, that Cass is awake.

"Cassie..." Steph looks up and finds Cassandra looking straight at her, not quite smiling, but not frowning either.

But that's not a problem. That's fine. Cass _gets it_ , so Stephanie can be the one to smile this time. And if her smile's a little watery, well, it just means Cass moves to hold both her hands, to rub her thumbs over the backs of her hands. And she wouldn't even dream of complaining about that.

Later, in the months that follow, Oracle will keep close watch through every channel she can. But he won't show up in any further footage anywhere in Arkham City. There will be no news of him, no further records of him in Blackgate or Arkham Asylum.

Arthur Brown will have vanished without a trace.

And Stephanie.

She won't... know...

She won't be able to...

She won't think about him.

She _won't_.

-

**xi.**

"Barb," Stephanie whispers, after dropping down from the roof entrance to the clock tower, pulling back her hood and mask. "Hey, Babs. You busy?"

The look Barbara gives her is fairly unimpressed, could actually match Batman's, really, but Steph brushes it off, walks up behind her chair.

Eh. Those looks don't really bother her anymore. Barb won't say anything mean to her anyway.

And it was kind of a dumb question to ask when Barbara's got, like, ten million different displays all running at the same time.

"A little bit," Barbara says at length, but her lips quirk in a lopsided smile that lets Stephanie know she's not really irritated with _her_ , just with whatever she's working on. "What do you need? Got a case?"

"It's not work or anything. It's just..." She grimaces, shakes her head, and very carefully tries to keep herself from fidgeting. (By the time she realizes she's twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers and tugging on her hood with her other hand, she knows she's very much failed.) "I don't know how to say this."

And Barb, that jerk, just gives her a _look_ , all raised eyebrows and practically smirking and, oh no. She's going to enjoy seeing her this nervous, isn't she?

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Go on, Steph. You can tell me." 

"I just..." She huffs out a breath, rolling her eyes. Okay. Okay. So it's gonna be embarrassing. So what?! It'll be worth it, won't it? "I've got... girl trouble," she finishes weakly, flashes Barb a smile she sure hopes is steadier than the tango her stomach's dancing.

Barbara's smirk widens and Stephanie just isn't surprised. At all.

"Cass?" she asks, leaning back in her chair.

"Who else?" she says, because is there any point at all in trying to keep something from the all-seeing Oracle? It'd be hard enough with something less obvious. But this? When Tim actually introduced her to a friend of his as _my sister's girlfriend_ the other day? Yeah, no. "I... think it might be a little more serious than I thought? I kinda..." She trails off, carefully considers her next words and, "I kinda didn't _tell_ her, but I totally meant for the last time we went out to be a date and I totally panicked and didn't really _do_ anything special, but I really think..." She pauses, gasping in a breath, before, "DoyouthinkIshouldaskheroutforreal?"

Barbara pauses, narrows her eyes.

And Stephanie doesn't regret a lot of things-- can't let herself regret them, refuses to-- but she thinks she can almost, _almost_ , learn to regret Barb's reaction, the absolutely _delighted_ laughter, the beginnings of the inevitable endless ribbing.

Almost.

(She really can't bring herself to regret a thing when, after calming down, Barb's advice is actually perfect.)

-

**xii.**

It's a good night.

Well, it's a terrible night. Scarecrow's managed to get the whole city evacuated, Oracle's been kidnapped, Robin's held up doing research for Batman, and this Arkham Knight guy _really_ isn't helping.

But Stephanie's been _helping_. She's been going around the city fighting off those militia guys, keeping the regular goons in check, and she's been doing it _well_. She's met up with Batgirl a few times, fought alongside her and even managed a few short breaks with her.

And she's fought alongside Batman, too, something he'd rarely allowed before. Because, apparently, the Spoiler's good enough to fight alongside his sidekicks, but not alongside _him_. He hasn't given her a single skeptical look, has actually kept her _in the loop_ (in his own way) every time Two-Face holds up another bank. And damn if it hasn't been satisfying to help him beat in that guy's henchmen's faces.

It's a good night in her book. A damn good night.

...

Until it's not.

Until Barbara's safely in the GCPD, but Tim _isn't_.

Safe, that is.

Until it's clear _something's_ up with the Arkham Knight. And it's something Batman, Barbara, and Alfred all obviously know, but they won't _tell_ her or Cassandra and neither of them have heard anything from Dick since Batman saved him from Penguin and Tim. _Tim is obviously not okay_.

Until she and Cass are perched on a rooftop near Wayne Tower, watching, in an excruciatingly live broadcast, how Scarecrow's got Tim. And the Commissioner. And Batman _and this can't be happening_. Cass is shaking her head next to her, frantically tapping at her comm link, trying to raise Oracle, and Stephanie's holding on to her arm so tight she's not sure she could let go even if she wanted to and.

"Cass," she chokes out, because _fuck_ code names right now. _Fuck_ code names when it's Bruce freaking Wayne staring at her from the screen on the building across from theirs. " _Cass_."

"No..." Cass whispers next to her, rising to her feet so fast Stephanie practically flies up after her.

And she could cry, she could actually cry when that guy in the red helmet (is that the freaking Arkham Knight?) saves Bruce and Tim and Gordon's lives. Not that she will. She absolutely won't cry.

Then Cass is tugging on her arm, pulling out her grapnel gun, and they don't watch anymore. She can tell how tense Cassandra is, can tell how much she's panicking, in her own way. She won't make her watch any more.

An hour later, they make it to Oracle at the GCPD.

An hour and a half later, Wayne Manor blows up.


	2. come the sun when it's done - Cassandra

**1.**

She doesn't wait. She doesn't try to find out what her father's thinking, doesn't try to find out what all his talk-- talk she can only understand a little of; she's not allowed to speak or even listen to what most people say, after all-- of "didn't get to that mess in Gotham, so we're doing this" means.

She doesn't. She can't.

The man dies, by her own hand, and she sees _everything_.

And she runs.

She shoves right by her father, by the men who work with him, and she runs and runs and runs and doesn't, _can't_ , stop.

She doesn't know how long she's run when she finally _does_ stop, when she kneels at the side of a back road and empties the contents of her stomach. But she's run long enough, through enough, for one of her pigtails to come loose, for the hem of her dress to be covered in mud.

Sucking in breath after breath, she rests her forehead on the ground and she loses track of time again. The sun sets, the night grows quiet around her, and she finally, finally stands, pulling off the shoes, with their small, delicate ribbons, that have rubbed her heels raw by now.

She doesn't need them.

And there's no more running now, at least for a while. There's walking now, endless walking, with no destination beyond _not there again_ and.

And it's hard to keep track of time again.

(And distance is even harder to keep track of. There are buses she gets on, boats she sneaks into, and it's a long, long time until she figures out where she is at any given moment.)

-

**2.**

She had... been alone for a long time. By the time she first reached Gotham.

Surviving hadn't been a problem. She could, can, take care of herself. But she'd been... Alone. And that's not...

She's not sure. After everything that's happened, after what she's done (--some days, she still can't get that man's death out of her head, she can't, she _can't_ , every single twitch, every single gasp, she could, and can, see it all so clearly--), she probably should be alone, should make sure to stay alone, but...

She shakes her head, leaning against the elevator wall behind her. Well. She's not, strictly speaking, really alone _anymore_ , is she? It's been... a while. A long while. (A year, she thinks.) And she... actually knows people. She has people who actually talk to her, who actually want _her_ to talk.

And with everything she heard about Gotham before arriving-- little snatches here and there, because no one really pays attention to what they say around little girls, or older girls who look like they haven't had a bath in weeks and won't even speak, don't even remember _how_ to speak-- it's... funny (is that even the right word for it?) that it's here where she makes friends.

(Friends?)

Sort of.

It was an accident, she meant to leave the city after a week or two. But she... Oracle... found her halfway through the first week, when she was looking around a side entrance to the clock tower, curious.

And that was when Oracle, though she didn't know her name yet, opened the door, came down the ramp... and spotted her, frozen in place. _Her_ in her torn sweater and jeans, face dirty and hair filthy.

Oracle tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "It's cold," she said, what was the word... matter-of-fact. "You shouldn't be out here without a jacket at least."

And she hesitated then, looked down at her clothes, and considered running again.

But she didn't.

She only shook her head, after another moment, and shrugged.

"You don't have one."

And she knew it wasn't a question, but she shook her head again anyway.

She's still not sure what made Oracle do it (maybe she'll ask her... someday), but in no time at all, she managed to coax her back inside, into the elevator, and in the apartment, and.

She got a warm coat and a fresh start.

And that was _everything_.

And she... Oracle asked for her name that day. And for the first time in as long as she could remember, she... She couldn't actually answer, not for a while, but she actually _knew_ the answer.

"Cassandra."

Her head snaps up when she hears Oracle's voice and she realizes the elevator's stopped and the railing is opening.

Hm. Distracted.

"Oracle," she greets in return after a moment, after stepping out of the elevator. Without another word, she walks over to her, to where she's surrounded by screens at the center of the room, and holds out the folder in her hands.

Oracle finally looks at her then, over her shoulder, and smiles. "Penguin's guys didn't give you any trouble?"

Cassandra shakes her head as Oracle reaches for the files she can't read, then waits until she's actually opened the folder. "No problem." She smiles, what Oracle calls her 'smug smile.'

Whatever that means. 

"I knew my best agent wouldn't have any trouble," she says with a wink, turning back to her screens.

Cassandra looks away, not quite able to stop the flush of pride Oracle's praise brings her. Her best agent... A year and Oracle thinks she's her best agent.

It's... stupid. Probably.

But more than using her name, more than the room in the big house, more than learning to read and to speak properly, _this_ , this easy... acceptance, this... inclusion, is what she most looks forward to some days.

Probably stupid. But it's... not a bad thing either, is it?

At least, it really doesn't feel like it. Especially the days where it's not just praise for a job well done like this, or praise (or criticism, that happens, too, with Oracle) when she tries to read a new word, but the days where no one actually seems to _expect_ anything from her. But Oracle still tells her how well those sunglasses suit her or makes sure she tags along when she goes out to buy coffee, pays for a drink for Cassandra, too.

And it's not like it's just Oracle anyway. Just two days ago, Robin brought back ice cream for himself and for her. A week ago, when Nightwing was visiting, he told her the story of Cinderella, when he found out she didn't know it. And acted out all the parts.

And Batman's letting her stay in _his house_. That's. That's something big, too. She can tell it is.

He won't _say_ it, of course, but it's not like she can't read it on him. And he knows she can. It's--

"Cass," Oracle says, all casual. And when Cassandra looks up, she's turned her chair around to look at her properly, smiling. "You're in your head a lot today." She's still smiling as she says that though, so Cassandra doesn't try to apologize. "Come on, we just got ourselves a new agent-- calling herself the Spoiler, of all things-- and I want you to meet her in a few months..."

-

**3.**

Months pass and she really, truly, gets to know everyone else. Beyond a warm coat, ice cream, and Cinderella, beyond a house to live in and Alfred's waffles.

Cassandra _knows_ them all now, knows all their real names, even if she still can't bring herself to use them half the time. But she _knows_ them.

They call her Cass, or Cassie, and she thinks they might actually care about her. She thinks they might actually consider her part of the family.

And if she ever doubted it, well.

All it takes is a few soft words from Alfred one morning over breakfast.

Batman's there, of course, but so is Tim, clutching a paper he "has to hand in like, now" and Dick's visiting for the weekend, though at the moment, he looks like he's about to drown in his mug of coffee.

Cass is halfway through her second waffle when Alfred stands and, without turning around to face any of them, says, "It truly is lovely to have all your children here for breakfast, wouldn't you say, Master Bruce?"

And there's the word. There it is. _Children_. All of Batman's _children_. Including her.

She can see Tim grinning out of the corner of her eye, Dick lifting his head, but she doesn't try to look at Batman, doesn't try to get a read on him. For once, she's unsure of what she'd see.

(She already has a father. She has one. But... could she be someone else's daughter, too?)

Logically, it's only a handful of seconds, but the pause before anyone else speaks seems to take forever, seems to stretch on and on and on, like the candy Black Canary was twirling around her fingers the other day.

But then Batman clears his throat, sets his own mug down, and says, "It is, Alfred." Simple, like it's nothing, like he hasn't just included _her_ among his children.

Alfred looks over his shoulder at them, smiling. "Although, forgive me, Master Bruce, but I dare say we seem to be _missing_ something with our newest addition." He looks straight at her, still smiling, before walking away to the dishwasher and she has no idea what he means.

Tim's caught on, and so has Dick, she can tell that much, but she can't tell what he's talking about, just what they're understanding.

That's not a feeling she's used to.

Batman, though, is just as confused as she is, brow furrowed and a downward tilt to his mouth.

She doesn't stick around to see if he asks Dick or Tim, only finishes her breakfast and heads straight to the cave.

It's... uncomfortable. _She's_ uncomfortable, a strange churning in her gut as she almost, almost, thinks she can figure out what Alfred was getting at. But it's like it's just outside her reach, just a little too far for her to grasp.

It turns out, in the end, that spending the whole day, and the next one, turning it over in her head, practically worrying it between her teeth, was unnecessary.

The next night, Batman-- Bruce-- knocks on her door, sits on her desk chair once she lets him in.

"Alfred was right," he says without preamble, stonefaced, though she can still detect some nervousness in him, uneasiness. "You're part of the family. One of us. And... I should make sure it's official, the same way I did with Dick and Tim."

And it all clicks into place.

He speaks some more, says something about making sure she's always got a place in the family, but she. She doesn't listen. Her mind is racing, at an almost dizzying speed.

She... hasn't seen her father in a very, very long time. Batman knows all about him, of course, knows everything he's done. They've... talked about him, really. In a sense.

There's a thought, just for a moment, that maybe she's supposed to talk to him before this. There's a dull ache in her chest that tells her maybe she's supposed to find out what he thinks first.

But she doesn't. She's not sure she... _wants_ to know what he'd think. Not now. Maybe not ever. They've... _talked_ about Cain, after all. About everything he did. She knows what she should think of him, even if her heart hasn't quite caught up to her brain yet. (Even if it might never catch up to her brain.)

Cassandra's saying yes before she's even quite realized she's doing it, she's turning her face away, hiding what kind of feels like a smile and tears in equal measure.

In the end, Cassandra Wayne's not a bad name to have.

-

**4.**

She finally meets Oracle's new agent a few months later.

The agent, Stephanie, (Steph, she said to call her _Steph_ ) is... nervous, for some reason she can't quite figure out, fidgety, distracted.

And she thinks Cass is pretty. That's... actually nicer to hear than she would have expected, has her, not smiling yet, no. Not until she figures out what's going on. But she definitely _wants_ to.

Not that anyone's explaining anyway. Nor can she seem to find the answer in Stephanie's face.

But whatever has Steph so nervous must be obvious to Oracle, because before Cass has time to ask anything else, Oracle's bursting into laughter, only just barely bothering to try to muffle it. Almost unwittingly, Cass grins in response, grin only widening when Stephanie actually turns _bright red_.

"Steph?" she asks, taking a step forward. She doesn't get to say any more though, not when Stephanie covers her face with her hands, shaking her head. And Oracle only laughs harder, pulling her glasses off her face, and.

 _Oh_.

It clicks into place when Stephanie looks up at her again, absolutely mortified.

Oh.

-

**5.**

Batman's stuck in Arkham Asylum and that's... not good. It's worrying, even as she knows Oracle is guiding him through every step of the way. And Batman's strong, smart, resourceful. He can deal with this better than the rest of them can. Right?

She knows this. She should know this, but Cass... Cass still finds it difficult (not impossible, never impossible) to just sit still and wait. And she can't stay in the manor like this, she just _can't_ , even if she hates to leave Alfred alone like this, with... with Batman in Arkham and Robin in Blüdhaven. 

He only smiles at her as she's out the door though, tells her to take care of herself while she's out. ...And to send his greetings to "Miss Gordon," of course.

And that's how she finds herself hovering in front of Oracle's computer screens, listening in to her conversations with Batman. And Cass isn't... exactly useful there either, but if Oracle were to ask for help... If she'd only...

She's perched on a computer chair, elbows on her knees and her chin resting on her hands, when the message comes in, intercepted from the GCPD. Thefts-- "hold ups"-- all throughout the city, by a man with a puppet. And a tommy gun.

Oh. The Ventriloquist and Scarface.

Cassandra frowns once the message ends, brow furrowing in thought. "He's not in Arkham, too?" she asks Oracle, voice soft.

Oracle shakes her head without looking behind her, only stares at the screen in front of her, hands hovering, suspended, over the keys. "Not as of a couple months ago. You know how Arkham is."

She does, all too well. (Batman will be fine, Batman will be fine, Batman will be fine...)

Neither says nothing for several moments, though Cassandra very, very much wants to ask who'll be dealing with the Ventriloquist. (And whoever else decides to follow his lead tonight, because she has no doubt there will be several.) And it's subtle-- Oracle's trying to hide it, that much is obvious-- but she can tell Oracle is... considering something. Thinking. She's thinking harder than usual.

It's when another message comes in, about Mister Freeze this time, that she speaks again.

"Hey, Cass," she says, slowly. "I'm gonna tell Spoiler to meet us here, okay? And in the meantime..." She does turn her chair around to look at Cass now. "There's something Bruce gave me a while back. Don't ask me where he got it from, but it was supposed to be in case of emergency and we sort of..." She huffs out a laugh, wry. "We sort of argued about it. But I think I can see how we can use it now."

She shakes her head, falling silent as she makes her way to one of the storage units on the walls. Cassandra stands, moves to follow her, but stops at a sharp look from Oracle.

"Wait. I'll be right there."

She doesn't try to argue with _that_.

It's only another minute (53 seconds, her mind supplies) until Oracle's pulling a square, flat box from one of the storage units and wheeling herself back to Cassandra's chair. "Open it," she says. "You'll understand when you do."

Cass runs her hands over the box, furrowing her brow. There's nothing particularly interesting about it, but... She finds the catch, pulls it open, and.

She draws in a breath, fast, sharp, her eyes widening.

A yellow bat, on a backdrop of black kevlar.

"How do you feel about being Batgirl, Cass?"

"But..." She shakes her head, holding the box closer to her chest. "But _you're_ Batgirl."

"Not anymore." And there's something sad in Oracle's eyes, in her smile, but it's gone just as quickly as it appears, as if it never existed. One of her hands comes to rest on one of Cassandra's, squeezing lightly. "But you could be now."

"But it's yours," Cass protests, shaking her head. "I'm not..."

"I'm not going to make you if you don't want to," Oracle says softly, giving her hand another squeeze. "But I can't go back anymore. I don't know if I'd even want to anymore." Her smile turns just a little lopsided. "And you... I _trust_ you. If anyone can do it... If there's one person in the world I'd give my blessing to for this... It's you, Cassandra."

Her eyes burn. She's not sure why, she's not sure when it started, but her vision's blurring.

Is this what it means to... to be part of...

"Okay."

A few weeks later, she catches a snippet of a radio program (Jack Ryder, that's his show right?), saying Batgirl has been _reborn_.

(Oracle laughs, says it's as melodramatic as she'd expect, but Cass can see the glint of pride in her eyes.)

-

**6.**

She's in the cave, the Spoiler at her side, the sounds of Nightwing speaking with Robin and Oracle over his comm link and Alfred tapping away at the main console as soothing background noise, when the alarm goes off. She's on her feet instantly, silent where the Spoiler is _not_ as she scrambles up next to her, where Nightwing is _not_ as he curses and signs off, practically leaps out of his seat.

"Oookay." Swiftly, with a steadiness to her fingers that does not match the tremor in her voice, Stephanie pulls her mask back on, draws her hood up. "Is that the--"

"Yeah," Dick says, already halfway up the stairs to the elevator, pausing only to (needlessly) gesture for them to follow. "It's the house. And with Bruce 'locked up,' it's gotta be..."

"...Some of Master Bruce's new... acquaintances," Alfred finishes, eyes still locked on the computer screen. "Shall I inform him?"

"Don't bother yet. We'll tell him when we've got some good news," Dick says, though the wry quirk to his lips tells her he _knows_ Alfred will do what he thinks is best anyway. "He's busy with this whole Protocol Ten thing anyway." And he shakes his head, something unhappy stealing over his expression for a moment before, "You gonna be all right here, Alfred?"

"Of course, Master Dick," he says, dry. "As always, you need not worry. I'd actually worry more about yourselves. Judging from what Master Timothy and Miss Gordon have said, these TYGER ruffians are..." he pauses, weighs his words. "...remarkably well-trained. Even compared to you."

"Yeah, it sounds like they're _reeeaaaally_ gunning for Batman." Steph pulls a face, all exaggerated motions behind her mask, and Cassandra pulls on her own before anyone can catch her smiling at it.

She can laugh at Stephanie later. When the house is safe.

With one last nod at Alfred, one from each of them, Nightwing and the Spoiler pile into the elevator, Batgirl at their heels.

"Cass, Steph," Dick says, breaking the silence that falls over them. He shifts on his feet, bounces on the balls of his feet, clenching and unclenching his feet. He's barely restrained energy, just moments away from action. "Let's stick together. At first, at least."

And he's... "You're... worried," she says, mouth twisted in confusion. She ignores Steph turning to look at her, surprise evident in her features. "Because they... gave Batman trouble?"

And he flashes her a grin, as tightly leashed and controlled as the rest of him is, and shrugs. "And they probably know who all of us are. Or suspect." He nods, probably more candid about his own concerns than if it were anyone but her asking.

She can already tell, after all.

And then Steph opens her mouth to say something, and Dick's about to cut in again with something that's probably meant to be reassuring, but--

But then the elevator reaches the entrance in Bruce Wayne's study and there's no time. TYGER voices and footsteps echo out in the halls and there is no time.

There's work to do.

-

**7.**

She first learns about-- _really_ learns about, beyond hushed comments and averted eyes-- Jason Todd mere days after Arkham City and the death of the Joker, weeks before Harley Quinn captures Batman in an attempt at revenge.

And almost a year before Cassandra actually _meets_ Jason Todd.

The mood in the house is... ambivalent, confused. The Joker is dead and it's...

Not something any of them truly knows how to deal with. Not something she knows how to deal with.

People dying is... unacceptable, after all. No matter what.

She knows there are many in Gotham who will see the Joker's death as a blessing. To them, justice will have been served and lives will have been saved. But she... she doesn't know, she can't know, if it'll really save lives now, or if someone else, someone worse, will step up to take his place. She doesn't know if it really was justice.

She doesn't. Know. She doesn't think he should have died. He shouldn't have.

But she knows about Jason Todd.

She knows about the Jason Todd who should have lived to be the same age as her, who should have been her brother.

The Jason Todd she saw the Joker _break_.

(Cassandra wasn't supposed to watch that video, of course. She's sure Bruce knows she did, likely cut and locked down the final part of it, his _death_ , because he anticipated it. And a small, ashamed, part of her is almost grateful she couldn't watch him die.)

But that's _all_ she knows.

He's the shadow, the ghost, lingering over everyone in the house. He's the spare Robin suit encased in glass, the harsh words whenever any of them take risks.

He's a file on the computer, half of it locked to only Batman himself. And she knows so _little_ about him.

And Cass doesn't need to be as smart as Oracle to see who's on everyone's minds.

Maybe that's what really brings her down to the Batcave in the middle of the night.

She comes up behind Dick (officially having taken time off work to visit his adoptive father, recently released from Arkham City, in Gotham), at the main computer and not _sleeping in his bed_ like he promised Tim he would. 

The only person the ghost of Jason Todd hangs heavier over than Dick Grayson is Batman himself.

(They weren't the only ones to lose him, she knows this, needs only look at Alfred and Barbara to remember, but... Batman cloaks himself in the grief, wraps it around himself every morning and every night, and Dick... Dick carries it behind him, not constant, not always noticeable, but _there_.)

"Dick," she says, loud enough to rouse him.

It's a long moment before he turns his chair around, blinking owlishly.

"You were... asleep." She frowns, eyebrows furrowed. "This wasn't what Tim meant."

He huffs out something that he probably means to be a laugh, rubbing at one of his eyes. "Aww, come on. Still did what he wanted, didn't I? It's not like he can make Alfred drag me to bed anymore."

And she can't help but smile at that, faintly.

"Shouldn't _you_ be sleeping now? What're you doing here, Cass?"

Her smile becomes an outright grin at that and she very carefully does not answer his first question.

It's the second question, remembering the answer to it, that melts her smile away.

"The house," she begins, lips pursed. "It's... all wrong. Everyone's..." And rather than finish her sentence, she shrugs, the words not quite coming to her.

And Dick, of course, quickly catches her meaning, even still groggy. She never needs many words with him.

"Yeah." He snorts, shakes his head. "Yeah, I get what you mean. It's kinda like..." He cuts himself off, waves his hand at the chair next to his, and Cass takes it as the invitation it is.

She folds herself into the seat, knees drawn up, and he... doesn't say anything for a while. He's thinking, she can tell, weighing something in his mind.

"You know," Dick says, at length, having come to some decision. And he's not quite looking at her again yet, but though his voice is quiet, it's as friendly as it always is when speaking to her. "The last time I saw everyone like this, _kinda_ like this, was when Jason died."

And it's another invitation, she realizes, one she's never been offered before.

Her eyes stray to the glass case on the other side of them. "But... The Joker was the one who..."

He nods, eyes on the cave ceiling. "Yeah. Different reason this time. Jason going missing, then... then dying like that..." He pauses, closes his eyes. It's a vague way of explaining what happened, but... still more than what Batman has told her about it. "We didn't even have a body to bury, and he was..."

"I get it," she whispers, when she can tell he's not about to continue.

She doesn't, not entirely, but he doesn't call her on it, only flashes her a smile. _This_ may not be something she's experienced, but she does know something of painful memories.

"What... was he like?" She takes the invitation given.

Dick smiles again. "I'm sorry you never got to meet him, Cassie. He was a good guy. Had a temper, but..."

Cassandra actually laughs herself at that and the smile he gives her now is more than a little wry. It might not be as explosive or as obvious as she's heard, but he knows all about bad tempers.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just listen..."

-

**8.**

Cassandra has known them all a few years by now. It's been long enough to meet all of them, to learn the alphabet (sort... of), to become Batgirl. It's been long enough to make friends and... and get adopted, be part of a family, a... a proper family, for the first time in her life.

So, by now, she knows what it means when Stephanie drops by the manor one afternoon, completely unannounced.

She's barely managed to drag herself out of bed after a long night of patrol and is in the middle of a late breakfast, with Alfred the only other one home, when Stephanie barges right into the kitchen, fresh-faced and bright-eyed.

Cassandra narrows her eyes, takes a sip of her tea. Batman may not exactly... approve, but Stephanie had spent most of patrol with her and Cass knows she only went back home a short while before _she_ did. And yet. There's nothing, absolutely nothing, in her face or body language that points to the fact that she should _still be sleeping_.

But Stephanie takes one look at Cass, still in her sleep clothes, and _laughs_ , laughs as if she's the one who can see right through her. With a shake of her head, and a wave at Alfred, Stephanie moves to practically _drag_ her out of her chair ("But! My tea..." "You can just bring it with you, it's fine.") and, next thing Cassandra knows, she's in her room, freshly showered, and pulling on clean clothes, and she.

She expected this.

It's not the first time this has happened, far from it. Each time has just emboldened Stephanie, going from asking her to just... well. Dragging her? And Cassandra?

Cassandra doesn't really mind.

(That's a lie. She looks forward to it every time.)

Taking one last look at herself in the mirror (and she isn't really surprised to find she's smiling to herself) and barely remembering to stuff her wallet in her pocket, she lets Stephanie grab her arm and pull her out of the house.

Girls' Day Out. That's what Steph calls this. (Barb calls their outing "dates" and... Stephanie doesn't really argue that. And Cass... doesn't think she minds calling them that either, for that matter.)

"Where are we going this time?" Cass thinks to ask once they're in Steph's car, already halfway out of Bristol.

"I'm thinking... the park." Steph doesn't quite look at her, keeps her attention fully on the road in front of her, her shoulders stiffer than they should be. Her voice though, it's... light, completely at odds with her body. "We can just hang out, go with the flow. How's that?"

And this is different, this is new. Usually, Steph has some sort of plan, some sort of idea, whether it be watching a movie or having lunch together and.

Ah. She sees it. _That's_ why Stephanie is nervous. It's unusual for them.

But Cassandra finds she doesn't really... mind not having a plan either when she finds herself on a bench by the pond, ice cream in her hand, and Stephanie sitting beside her, their legs pressed up together.

But.

That's a lie, too. It's not that she doesn't _mind_ , she...

She ducks her head, but doesn't really bother to hide her smile, or to pretend she's not pressing up a little closer, knows Stephanie will notice soon enough.

It's... good. More than good. Great?

And she should... really do something about that light feeling in her chest.

Stephanie doesn't complain when Cassandra rests her head on her shoulder, only rests her head lightly atop Cassandra's.

-

**9.**

"When are you really going to ask me out on a date?" Cassandra asks when Stephanie drops by the next week. She can't quite stop herself from sounding just the slightest bit teasing, doesn't really bother to, if she's honest with herself.

And it's almost impressive how much Stephanie's eyes widen, how she can't form words for... several minutes. "I... I don't... I did..." She shakes her head quickly, blurts out, "You _know_?" And she doesn't have to ask what she means.

Cassandra still takes a moment to think her answer through though, lets her brow furrow and her mouth twist in thought. "Stephanie. We have been going out on... dates for two years now. I think... you should ask me. On a real one."

Stephanie's jaw _drops_ and, after another moment in silence, Cass can't help but wonder if... maybe she said the wrong thing?

(Maybe she shouldn't have asked Dick for advice after the last date? But he sounded so confident...)

But the worry is short-lived. Steph _grins_ , so bright that Cass is the one struck silent this time, something clenching behind her ribs.

Oh. Oh no.

"Cassandra Wayne," she sings, eyes bright. "Would you go out with me today? We can get lunch. And ice cream again."

And Cass means to answer right away, really, she does, but has Stephanie's smile really always been that wide, that bright? That... that _glowing_?

She's never seen her smile like that before, has she?

"Well, Cassie?"

"...Yeah."

It turns out, she finds at the end of this particular date, when she stands on her tiptoes, hands on Stephanie's upper arms, that kisses from Stephanie are even more distracting than that brilliant smile.

-

**10.**

"You should go help Robin tonight," Cass says, keeping her voice soft. She very carefully does not look at Stephanie behind her. "Or Oracle. I think Batman's with her now. In... the clock tower."

"What?" Steph's voice is just as soft, but it wavers with confusion, with worry. "No way, I'm sticking with you tonight. That's the plan right?"

Cassandra pauses, shaking her head. When she closes her eyes, she can only picture the people evacuated. She can only think of that diner, of the injured, the dead... of the man sitting, delirious-- terrified, every single twitch and movement broadcasting it-- in a cell in the GCPD. How can she... explain that... "You should go help Robin. Or Oracle," she repeats.

" _Why?_ "

And she considers not answering, considers just walking away, never looking back. If she's fast enough, if she makes sure Oracle calls Stephanie, maybe she could even outrun her. It's what Batman would do. Probably.

But...

But that's not quite right either. She shouldn't. She _owes_ it to Stephanie, to what's between them. Doesn't she? If she could just... find the words...

"I'm sorry. I just..." Before she can continue, Stephanie's grabbing at her shoulder, turning Cass around to face her (and she lets her, doesn't resist). And it's not like they can even see each other's faces properly, not with their masks on, but there's something about just facing her that weakens Cassandra's resolve, bringing the words to her tongue.

"It's dangerous," she finally says. "We've never... Nothing like this has ever happened. Before. I don't..." She shakes her head, breathes in. Here goes. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"It's _always_ dangerous." Stephanie's tone is low, dangerous. "We can get hurt every single night. I'm not just gonna hide 'cause of that!"

"But Stephanie--"

" _No_." Stephanie rips off her own mask, her teeth bared in something that isn't anywhere close to a smile. "No. I'm not as good as you, as any of you, but I'm not _helpless_! Don't give me this! Haven't I shown you all that I can take care of myself by now?! I can damn well help you and Batman out tonight! And you _know it_." She's breathing hard by the end of it and Cassandra is... not entirely surprised to find her own heart beating faster.

"Stephanie..." Cass pulls off her own mask, slowly. She just has to try, one more time at least. She _has_ to. Stephanie's improved. She's improved so much. But enough for a night like this?

" _No_ ," Steph snarls, stepping forward until she's right in Cass' space. " _Stop_. Just--" She shakes her head, slices a hand through the air.

Then her arms are wrapping around Cassandra's waist, drawing her flush against her chest. Cassandra lets her-- see sees where this is going, how could she not--, wraps her arms around Stephanie's shoulders. Then Stephanie's lips are on hers, rough, hard, and she.

Stephanie doesn't try to deepen the kiss and neither does Cassandra, only meets her in the slide of her lips, meets her nip for nip.

All too soon (too, too soon), Stephanie draws back, rests her forehead against Cassandra's.

"No," she whispers, breath mingling with hers. "I don't care what you say. I'm still going out there. I'll follow you if I have to. You're not." She lets out a shuddering breath, shaking her head. "You're not the only one who's worried, Cass."

"I know," Cassandra manages to say.

"Not even Batman's ever gone against something this big, Cass," Steph continues, arms tightening around her waist. "But if anyone can deal with this, it's all of us, right? It's _us_."

And there might be arguments Cassandra could make against that, if she stopped to think. Oracle could probably make them (but she hasn't). Batman could probably make them (but she knows, with a certainty she's not sure anyone else could feel, that he's already used them on Robin).

She could say a lot of things, but instead, she settles for, "Okay," and the smile Stephanie gives her in response is brilliant enough to almost chase away the uneasiness in her gut.

It's brilliant enough to have her standing on her tiptoes to kiss Stephanie again.

-

**11.**

Stephanie's safe. Batgirl and the Spoiler finish off the night with nothing more than scrapes and bruises (and a bullet graze, in Cassandra's case, but a field dressing's enough to keep it from slowing her down). They're fine, they're just fine.

The Arkham Knight's-- what's the word-- AWOL and all that stands in their way is Scarecrow and it's--

And it's terrible.

It's _terrible_. Scarecrow's all that's left and they're mostly uninjured when Nightwing's been hurt, Oracle's been hurt, and right in front of them, on the screen on the building across from the one they're perched on--

Cassandra shakes her head, breath shallow and fast, so fast, so fast, when was the last time she was breathing _this_ quickly? She doesn't remember. She can't remember. Everything's. Everything's wrong. Stephanie's clutching at her arm and she barely even feels it.

She taps at her comm link, but Oracle's busy, busy, _busy_. She manages to hear Barbara yelling orders at someone near her (one of the officers in the GCPD, it must be), her voice frantic and rushed. Stephanie's saying something next to her, but she can't make it out.

And that's the Commissioner (Barbara's father) on the screen with Scarecrow. That's Tim, injured, injured worse than any of them. And that is her adoptive father, her _father_ , staring out from the screen, his cowl off, and this _isn't right_.

"No..."

Cassandra leaps to her feet the moment, the very moment, the cowl comes off and she wants to run, wants to demand that Barbara tell them where they are. But she can only watch, frozen like she's never been frozen in her life, as the scene unfolds and the Arkham Knight (it's him, it has to be him, he moves just like him) saves them.

Then she is running, leaping from roof to roof, Stephanie right at her heels. Time blurs for her, events blur together, but they make it to the GCPD. They make it to Barbara.

And Wayne Manor blows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo. Are Bruce and Alfred okay at the end? Laughs nervously, don't look at me.


End file.
